Finding his feet
by provencepuss
Summary: the 3rd in the Starsky trilogy aug 2007 . I love the way he walks! the loss of chapter divisions when uploading was beyond my control. Sorry for the inconvenience


FINDING HIS FEET 

Part 3 of the Starsky trilogy (Aug 2007)

Seated at the coffee shop table, Dave looked so good in his uniform; he was tanned and looked fit. Harvey noted that he seemed to be leaning slightly to one side. Dave spotted him and waved; Harvey waved back with a big "welcome home" grin.

_Harvey hasn't changed much. I wonder how he'd going to react when he sees how much I have. If he's fucked up my car it will be the last straw. Here he comes. Time to do the brave soldier routine, Dave._

Harvey walked towards the coffee shop.  
_Wow look at Dave! He looks amazing in that uniform – and he has medals!  
All the same I'm glad I didn't get the call.  
Hope he doesn't want to drive._

Then Dave stood up.

He seemed to have to gather himself together before he pushed on the table to transfer his weight; Harvey saw the stick leaned against the other chair at Dave's side and he watched horrified as his cousin picked it up and used it to get upright. Leaning heavily on the stick Dave walked out from behind the table.  
"I could do with some help with this." He said indicating his kit-bag that was lying on the floor beside him. Harvey stepped forward and lugged the bag into his shoulder. Dave held out his hand and Harvey went to take it, only to be pulled into a one-armed bear-hug the strength of which took him by surprise.  
"You don't know how good it is to be back!"

They made their way to the car. Dave limped heavily, his left leg swung out slightly to the side as he walked and his foot seemed to hang limp for a second before touching the ground. He caught sight of Harvey's face out of the corner of his eye. "It looks worse than it is. Hey I've been in a 'plane for hours; I'm tired and kinda stiff."  
Harvey hoped he wasn't trying to kid himself as well.

"So, where's the Mustang?" Dave was squinting into the LA sunlight.  
Harvey swallowed. "I..uh..I didn't bring it. It needs a little work and it's uh…."  
"Yeah well, as long as we have a car to go home in, I guess it doesn't matter."  
Harvey changed the subject fast. "Mom can't wait to see you; she was on the 'phone to your mom as soon as dad put it down after your call. Will you go out east Dave?"  
"Dunno." His voice was flat. "I had a letter from Uncle Joe while I was in Hawaii – it might not be a good moment to out there."  
Harvey didn't say anything. He knew that Al had spoken with Joe too but he didn't know what the details were.

They drove back to the house in silence. Dave seemed to be rememorizing all the sights and sounds of the city. "I never thought I'd miss this place so much. I mean I always thought, no hoped, that I would go back home to mom after a while – when the dust had settled, you know what I mean? But I guess the dust isn't going to settle. And then when I was in that hospital I kept looking out at the sunshine and everything and I knew that I could never live in New York again…I came to understand that LA is home to me now."

Al heard the car pull into the lot.  
"Look I'll call you back…later, I said…my nephew's home…I said _later,_ OK." He put the 'phone down and walked out to the car. Dave leaned out of the window, hand outstretched in greeting. "Hi Uncle Al, I said I'd come back!"  
"Great to see you, Dave. Harvey, why don't you take Dave home and then come back here? I need to talk with you."  
"Hey, I can drive myself." He turned to Harvey with a look that said 'don't say anything'.  
Harvey got out of the car and Dave slid over to the driver's seat.  
"See you later…don't be too long, I don't know how long I'll be able to handle Aunt Rosa on my own."  
Father and son laughed; Rosa had been in a state of semi-hysteria ever since Dave called to say he was at the airport. All three knew that Dave was in for an onslaught of tears and fuss.  
As the car pulled away Al noticed the stick on the back seat.  
"How bad is it?"  
"I don't know; but it doesn't look too good."

Rosa was trying to keep herself occupied with housework to hold the excitement at bay.  
She heard the car pull up and glanced out of the window. Dave was driving and there was no sign of Harvey. She watched as Dave gathered his things together and set his cap straight on his head. When he got out of the car she dropped the vase that she was holding.  
"Oh my god, what am I going to tell Lily!"

OK Dave, deep breath. _Harvey managed to hide the shock pretty well; I wonder if Al saw the stick – I guess Harvey will fill him in. _  
_Now to face Rosa. _

He reached over to the back seat for his stick and cap. Grinning at himself in the rear-view he adjusted his cap to the regulation angle. He opened the door and using the stick for support heaved himself out of the car. It wasn't easy. Back in Hawaii he'd been driving a jeep and it had been easy to just swing his legs out of the open side and lower himself to the ground – but this car was lower and he had to push himself upright. Steadying himself he walked carefully round to the back of the car and pulled his kit-bag out of the trunk. In the airport he'd been able to drag the bag behind him, letting it slide on the polished floors – but he couldn't do that here; he gritted his teeth and hoisted it onto his shoulder. He noticed a movement at a window as he walked towards the front door.

_She saw._

The door opened before he had a chance to ring the bell. Aunt Rosa stood in front of him fighting back the tears and forcing herself to smile.  
"Lieutenant David Starsky, reporting for a hug, Ma'am!" He dropped the bag and snapped a salute. Rosa couldn't help laughing and that gave her an excuse to release the tears.  
She out her arms around his neck and kissed him on both cheeks – sending his cap flying as she did.  
"Whoa, Aunt Rosa, slow down; give a guy a chance to get in the house."  
She stepped aside and watched as he made his way to the sofa and sat down heavily.  
"Pleased to see me?"  
"Oh David…Davey…Oh darling what am l going to tell you momma?"  
"That I'm home; and then you hand me the 'phone."  
Rosa started to pick up the 'phone and dial. Dave leaned forward and pressed down the buttons to break the connection.  
"Not yet. I'm tired and I could really do with a rest. It's a long flight."  
Rosa picked up his bag, (it wasn't as heavy as she expected it to be) and followed him out of the room. Dave stopped at the bottom of the stairs…

_Shit, I didn't think of this. I've been using elevators and escalators for months.  
Oh well moment of truth, now we find out if Clark did his job right._

He transferred the stick to his right hand and took a hold of the hand-rail with his left. _Right foot first I guess._  
He placed the right foot on the first step and using the hand-rail as a primary support and the stick as back-up he pulled his left foot up to join it.  
_So far so good. _  
Another step and then he swayed dangerously.  
"I'm right behind you David." Rosa's voice was tremulous but she was doing her best to keep it light.  
"Well at least I'll have something soft to land on!"  
_Ok let's get this over with._  
He steadied himself and took the next two steps easily; gaining confidence he tried to put his left foot onto the step above the right foot…and lost his balance. He managed to stay upright by holding on tight to the hand-rail; but Rosa's gasp made him re-think his bravado. He continued up the stairs one at a time and crossed the hallway to his old room. He half-collapsed onto the bed and sat on the edge and unbuttoned his jacket.  
Rosa brought his bag.  
"Get some rest dear. Do you need any help?"  
_NO!_  
"Yes please. Could you hang up my uniform for me and I'll unpack my stuff later."  
Rosa took the jacket and waited while Dave wriggled out of his pants without standing up. He pulled off his undershirt and she noted how strong the Army had made him. Dave had been a fine athlete at school but the Army had honed his body even more. She noticed the livid scars on his leg and tried not to show her shock.  
"They look pretty bad don't they…you should have seen them a couple of months ago! The doc said that they'll fade eventually." He smiled reassuringly as he spoke. "I promise Aunt Rosa – it's not as bad as it looks."  
_But it feels much worse._  
Rosa left him to rest. She went downstairs and resisted the temptation to call her sister and tell her what she'd seen. She understood that Dave had to choose what and when his mother should be told.

Harvey and Al returned to the house about an hour later; just in time to hear dull thud from the bedroom above their heads, the thud was followed by the sound of something heavy being dragged across the room.  
"What the hell…." Al ran up the stairs closely followed by Harvey and Rosa.  
They found Dave slumped by the toilet; a thin trickle of vomit ran down his chin and his eyes were closed. He was groaning.  
"David!" Rosa ran to his side and put a hand on his forehead. "I don't think he has a fever. Davey, Davey can you hear me?"  
"Nnnng."  
"What's the matter sweetheart?"  
His voice was hoarse, barely audible. "Migraine…need…need…" He started to vomit again and Rosa instinctively supported his forehead while he threw up the remains of the frugal meal he had eaten during the flight from Hawaii.

Al and Harvey helped him up and half-carried him back to the bed. Dave was moaning in pain; his bad leg dragged behind him and he kept his eyes closed.

"I'll get you some aspirin." Rosa started out of the room  
"No. Aspirin's no use, makes me sleep though. In my wash-bag…pills… two..."  
Rosa found the wash-bag and pulled out a bottle marked with David's name; she went into the bathroom and filled the tooth glass then held out the pills and water.  
He took the pills and threw them to the back of his throat to avoid the bitter taste of them dissolving on his tongue, gulped some water and fell back onto the pillow.  
"Need to sleep."

A mother's instinct told Rosa that someone should stay with him. "I don't know why Al; I just don't think he should be on his own. Harvey, stay with him – if he needs to get to the bathroom again I wouldn't be able to support him. He must be at least six inches taller than I am."

Fifteen minutes later Harvey was supporting his cousin while he retched bile and mucus into the toilet bowl. Harvey noticed the two semi-dissolved pills. "Dave, your pills came up. Now what?"  
"Shit. Call VA. Number's in my wallet…in my jacket."  
Harvey got him back to bed and took the jacket off the hangar to search the pockets. He took the card with the number of the Veteran's Administration Hospital and went down to make the call.

The doctor who arrived was a gentle young black woman; she followed Rosa up to the bedroom.  
"Hi Dave." She sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed his hair back from his face. Rosa sensed that she already knew David.  
She started to prepare a syringe – all the while talking to him in a soothing voice.  
"I thought I wouldn't see you until next week…I guess you couldn't wait huh? Ok time to be a big brave boy; none of your nonsense your aunt is watching." She tested the syringe and pulled back the blankets enough to reveal a strong brown arm. She slipped the needle into his vein and he whimpered.  
"Ssh, good boy; it's all over. Sleep."  
The young doctor turned to Rosa. "I knew Dave at the hospital in Hawaii. I came back about two months ago and was assigned to VA here. My name is Jodie Laurence – and I don't need to be told that you are Aunt Rosa. I've seen a photo of his mom and you are so like her…you all have the same mouth. He'll sleep for a couple of hours. If he's still in pain when he wakes up give him a couple of his pills – he won't throw up again." She turned back to her patient and to Rosa's surprise she kissed him gently on the cheek. "Sleep well; I'll see you at the center."

Before leaving Dr. Laurence gave Rosa a card; "he doesn't always need a shot – but if he has another attack like that you can call me day or night."

Dave slept through the rest of the day and all through the night.

"What are you going to do Dave?"  
Al and the two young men had been sitting in Al's office. After Harvey had explained how he'd written off the Mustang in a stupid accident and both he and his father were surprised at how calmly the usually volatile Dave had taken it.  
"I guess as long as you weren't hurt it doesn't matter." Was all he'd said. He'd rubbed his thigh as he spoke as if trying to erase his own injuries.  
"I guess the insurance paid up – right Harvey?"  
"Yeah; I had them pay it into your account."  
"And I have my savings. I guess I'll go see what Merle can do for me."

Rosa tried to keep it out of her voice but her sister could read her like a book.  
"Ok Rosa so he looks good, how else could my Davey look? So now why don't you tell me the rest of it?"  
"Oh Lily; if you could have seen him when he walked in – you know what I thought, he looked so like Mike in his uniform with his medals and everything. He's sleeping right now – Lily he gets these terrible migraines. He never had them before, I guess it has something to do with…"  
She stopped as Dave walked carefully into the room. The migraine left him with something akin to a hangover and it felt like every step he took made his brain vibrate against his skull. He had slept, but it was a drugged sleep that brings no real rest and to Rosa it seemed that he was leaning even heavier on the stick than before.  
"You talking to mom? I asked you…"  
"Here he is, Lily, he's just come downstairs."  
She handed the 'phone to her nephew and went to busy herself in the kitchen with a new recipe that she'd clipped from a magazine while she was waiting at the hairdresser.

"Hi mom." He tried to sound as upbeat as he could despite the fuzziness in his head.  
"I was going to call you later today…I needed to rest, it's a long flight from Hawaii….the headaches? Yeah, the doctor said I might have to live with that…he didn't really know; thought it might be because I had a kind of malaria at one time…hey stop crying and listen to me."  
He waited for what seemed like minutes.  
"Momma? Listen to me….what?...when?... are you sure? I can send you the fare…he did?...OK. Call when you know your flight OK. I love you momma; that's why I came back."  
He sat cradling the 'phone in his lap, silent tears rolling down his cheeks and Rosa came in to hear the burring sound of the disconnected line. She took the 'phone and replaced it on its table and sat down next to him.  
"Dave, do you want to talk about it?"  
"She's coming over."  
"I know, I suggested it…Dave?"  
"I'm not ready for her, Aunt Rosa. I didn't want her to see me yet…not like this. I didn't want her to be upset."  
"Davey, she's your mother. Do you think she hasn't guessed that things aren't as good as you want her to think they are? She called constantly once you finally told her where you were, hoping that I knew something. I didn't know what you'd told Al, he kept it to himself; but Lily and I, we sensed that something bad had happened to you."  
"I didn't want her to see me like this." He stood up carefully and made his painful way back to his bedroom. When he came down again he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt and carting a small kit-bag.  
"I have to report in to VA for the rest of my rehab program. I guess I'd better start with stairs!"

By the time Lily arrived at the end of the week he was walking up the stairs easily.  
Learning had been a painful reminder of what his battered body had gone through. The therapist could only stand back and admire the gritty determination with which his patient forced himself to move his hip in a way that it had forgotten. The stick was still very a much in evidence though and the center's psychologist was beginning to wonder whether it was symbolic of David's mental state.  
"I don't need a shrink; I need a physiotherapist."

Lily stepped off the 'plane and made her way to the arrivals area. She spotted her son standing waiting for her. The sight of his walking stick made her heart skip, but she was struck by how well he looked; and by how much he resembled his dead father.

"Hi momma. Let's go find your stuff." He pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek.  
He found a trolley and loaded her bags. "How long are you staying momma?" he said with a broad grin. She smiled. "I guess I couldn't make up my mind what to bring."  
She pushed the trolley, although Dave had insisted that he was fine doing it with one hand, and they walked out into the heat of another LA summer day. Harvey was waiting with the car and he loaded the trunk while Dave made a fuss of settling his mother into the back of the black limo.  
"Whose car is this? Did Al lend it to you?"  
"Yeah – while I was away Harvey had a little mishap with my car so for the moment I use whatever Uncle Al can lend me." The cousins exchanged glances and grinned.

Lily watched him walk across the room…_My poor baby._

Dave took refuge in the rehab unit; his mother's overwhelming love was beginning to wear him down. He knew she couldn't help it – _how often hads she seen me in the past thirteen years? _  
He made progress but it was slow and sometimes there was one step back for every two steps forward. One day he was feeling over-ambitious and set off for the men's room without his stick. He hadn't realized the fine balance that peeing involved and he fell; crashing against a urinal as he fell. He sat and stared at his leg that was splayed at a rag-doll angle to his body. Pain seared through his hip. _Shit'n'fuck_  
He tried to heave himself up; but the pain in his hip pulled him back to the floor. _Fuck'n'shit. Fuck oh fuck oh fuck._It didn't ease the pain or bring help – but it made him feel better.  
The door opened and one of the other veterans came in; seeing Starsky on the floor he came over. "I don't know if I can help you up but…" He held out his arm and Starsky noticed that the other shoulder ended in a stump. The guy's good hand was strong but not strong enough. He nearly fell on top of Dave and the two of them started laughing.  
"Stay there; I'll get an orderly."  
The orderly came in pushing a wheelchair. "I don't need that thing!" Starsky snarled.  
"You do unless you're planning on spending the night here. I'm taking you straight down to X-ray to make sure nothing's broken." Dave sighed and resigned himself to being lifted into the wheelchair and transported down the hallway to the elevator leading to the X-ray floor. Jodie stepped out of the elevator when it opened. She took one look at the passenger in the wheelchair and followed it into the elevator again.  
"What happened?"  
"I overdid it. I fell." The orderly was busying himself pushing the button for the lower level; he said nothing.  
"I fell in the can if you must know. I thought I could do it without my stick and I lost my balance." He stared at the orderly's back and then he began to giggle. "I guess it could have been worse…I mean it was before I got a chance to pee. Which reminds me…"  
The orderly nodded. The elevator arrived at the lower floor and they went straight t the X-ray room. "Hey, I thought you understood, I need to pee."  
The orderly handed him a bed-bottle. "Use this, until you're cleared you don't stand up!"  
Starsky grimaced and filled the bottle and handed it back. "Don't drink it all at once."

He lay on the examination table and waited while Jodie studied the x-rays. She turned with a big smile. "Nothing broken – but your hip is slightly out of its socket." She nodded to the orderly who turned him slightly over to his side. Dave groaned.  
"Big baby!"

Rosa and Lily were waiting for him. The ambulance crew carried him upstairs and Lily started to fuss over him the way she had always done when he was little and sick. He felt the lump rise in his throat as he remembered the times that Rosa had done her loving best but he'd wanted his mom all the same. He surrendered totally and allowed her to tuck him up and kiss his eyelids. "I'm going to stay by your side baby."  
"Mom I'm not sick – I just have to rest a while. I'll be OK later."

She brought him his dinner on a tray. He sat up ready to face the latest of his aunt's offerings. Recently Rosa had discovered what she called Indian cooking. Not curries, but dishes that she fondly believed the Native Americans had eaten before Columbus arrived to disrupt their lives. His eyes lit up in delight when he saw a perfect slice of pot roast and his favorite baked potato on the side. He wrinkled his nose when he saw the carrot.  
"How come you did the cooking mom?"  
She grinned. "I insisted Rosa let me do something to help – and after what she served for lunch I figured that a little of your momma's cooking was what you needed. Has she always been this bad?"  
"Worse…you should have been here a few years ago; when she had her Mexican phase. I didn't know it was possible to do what she did to an avocado! You know what mom – there were times when I thought maybe I'd run away and come back home just to taste your cooking. I got into the habit of eating out when I was working – I even preferred to eat in the High School canteen!"

The next morning he was up and about as if nothing had happened – but Lily noticed the pinched look on his face as he walked across the room.  
That evening Al suggested that the family go out and celebrate Dave's return.  
"There's a great Chinese restaurant just opened a couple of blocks away…" He stopped when he saw Dave's face. "Well maybe not. Hey, Dave why don't you choose?"  
"Wherever I want?"  
"Sure." Al hesitated wondering what the answer would be.  
"Philippe's."  
"Isn't that where we used to go when you came to meet me off the train?"  
"Yeah." Something in the tone of his voice made it obvious why he wanted to go there now.

By the time Lily went back to New York Dave was beginning to feel more confident about his future; his mom's presence had pushed him a little further along the road to recovery. Not that he wasn't a willing voyager; but he was all the more determined to be as able-bodied as his cousin before he saw her again.

He waved to her 'plane as it taxied down the runway and walked back to his car twirling his cane like Charlie Chaplin.

Al and Dave were drinking beer in the car lot office.  
"What are you going to do about a job?"  
"Dunno. I have an appointment with some desk-jockey about what the army likes to call 'post-service orientation'." He said the last three words with an air of sarcasm that made them both laugh. "I guess they reckon if they bring you back alive they should do something. If they don't have any sensible ideas I guess I'll have to look at the want ads. I feel OK driving but I don't think the cab company would take me back right now. But I need to find something I can fit in with my rehab sessions. I still have about a month to go."  
"I can always find something for you, Dave."  
"Yeah…I might just have to take you up on that Uncle Al. I want to find myself a place of my own. No offense; you and Rosa have been wonderful to me ever since…since I came out here; but I guess after 'Nam I need to be on my own a little."

"Have you ever thought about college Lieutenant?"  
He looked at the young career Captain sitting behind the desk. _Pure ROTC from college; what was that line Jodie had 'the army put me through college now I'm paying them back'? He's safe enough – behind his desk – probably only ever fired blanks in his life._  
"Yeah, I thought about it. I could've had a try-out for a football scholarship but I didn't want to have to do the school work. Maybe I should have taken it – worst that could have happened would have been that my knees got wrecked!" He smiled.  
"And now? You qualify under the GI Bill."  
"To study what? I wasn't that good at High School except in Math. Anyway after what I've seen in the past few years I guess I wouldn't have much in common with the other kids."  
"What did you do before you were called up?"  
"I don't think you want to know."  
He stood up. "Thanks for trying to help, but I've always made my own way – I guess I'll find something."

He was right; the cab company said 'no'. He managed to talk them into reconsidering in six months after he'd had more rehab. He wasn't convinced that they'd take him back then either – but he had to keep his hopes alive.

He found a job in a diner – back to being a short order cook. But after a couple of weeks he found that standing still was more painful than moving about – and as he couldn't wait table with a stick he had to quit. He swallowed his pride and, sending up a silent prayer that his dad would understand, he went back to see Al. Al sent him to Benny and he was soon adding to his little nest egg.

The stick was less and less of a necessity, but it had its uses. Even the lowest rat in the sewers that Dave and Harvey went to clean up for Benny was reluctant to take on a guy who leaned heavily on a stick when he walked. Unfortunately for the rats, Dave didn't have the same qualms…once their backs were turned he used it to trip them up and help them fall into Harvey's arms – then Dave would demonstrate some of the hand-to-hand skills the army had taught him, as well as the basics that John had shown him all those years ago.

Dave and Harvey made a good team. Harvey relied on his muscles; Dave had more subtle powers of persuasion.  
He had a quiet menace that reduced most of the men Benny sent him after to quivering wrecks ready to hand over their grandmothers in payment.  
Harvey loved watching him in action.

They were visiting a local bookie who was taking a little more than his allotted percentage. Dave went in first. He entered the bar quietly and ambled over to the bar to order a beer. "Would you be so sweet as to bring it over to that booth for me – I can't really hold things too well; see I'm a leftie and …" he glanced down at the stick and flashed her a lop-sided grin.  
He settled into the booth opposite the door to the back room where the action was going down. The waitress brought him his beer and he tipped her a dime over the price; and gave her another of his winning smiles.

A couple of minutes later Harvey came in; he knocked over a table and roughed up the bar tender who tried to block him from the door to the back room. As soon as Harvey was inside; Dave stood up and walked over to the same door. He twirled his stick like a majorette and rapped on the door with the curve of the handle. When the door opened the man on the other side found out how well Dave's left shoulder had healed.

Once inside Dave settled on the edge of the table and leaned towards the bookie. He glanced at Harvey, who was cracking his knuckles and holding the other "body guard" down with his foot. The clientele stayed in their seats – fascinated and horrified and too terrified to try to leave.

"How much did you take yesterday Lennie?" Dave's voice was even and low.  
"Let me see know…" He picked up the bookie's ledger and ran a finger down one of the columns of figures. He made a rapid (and accurate) calculation and whistled. "Looks like you took fifty-five Gs. Lennie. Now let me see. What's the percentage Benny gives you?"  
He leaned forward and stared into Lennie's eyes. His cold dark blue gaze seemed to pin Lenny to the chair.  
"S..s…sixteen."  
"Mmhmm. Sixteen percent of fifty five that's…" he stared up at the ceiling as if seeking the answer, "that's eight and eight points, in other words eight thousand eight hundred. Am I right Lennie?"  
Lennie licked dry lips and nodded.  
"I didn't hear you Lennie?"  
Harvey cracked his knuckles again. "Yea…you're right…eight and eight."  
"Good, glad my math is right." Another cold smile. "Now fifty five minus eight'n'eight that leaves forty six two…am I right Lennie?"  
"Yeah."  
"Come again."  
"YEAH."  
"And when Benny counted his takings last night there was only thirty eight five; which means that someone must have kept back a little extra," he paused and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling before focusing back on his victim, "about four thousand one hundred extra if I'm calculating right – which means that someone…" He treated Lennie to his broadest; blankest smile. "…someone kept a cool twelve nine…and that sounds more like twenty three percent and counting. What do you reckon Harvey?"  
"You know I would've flunked Math if you hadn't done it for me."  
"Oh yes, I forgot. My cousin Harvey over there – he wasn't too good at school; he was good in the ring though – weren't you Harvey?"  
Lennie swallowed hard.  
"Look, we c..c..can come to some kind of agreement here boys. I mean I guess someone made a mistake in the counting…Let me go see what's in the safe."  
Dave followed him – closely, very closely. Lennie could feel his breath on the back of his neck and the steady tap, tap of the stick did nothing to increase his self-confidence.  
He opened a small wall safe and pulled out a buff envelope. Dave took the envelope and peeped inside. "Sit down Lennie, while I count it. And keep your hands on the table where I can see them."  
He ran a finger along the edge of the notes and smiled. The stick came down hard on Lennie's knuckles. He yelped. "Where's the rest of it Lennie? There's only ten here!"  
Harvey pushed his foot down to stop the fallen body guard from trying to come to Lennie's aid.  
Dave raised his stick again; then lowered it and placed it on the table.  
"I don't really need this anymore. Do you know how I got it? I'll tell ya. I got it in 'Nam; but not before I learned a lot of things about hand-to–hand combat if you see what I mean. I hurt my arm too – but it's all healed. And when Harvey and I used to arm wrestle – guess who won."  
He reached over and pulled Lennie's arm up into a painful twist. "Wanna find out just how strong I am, Lennie?"  
Lennie shook his head. "In the drawer." Dave released his arm and walked over to the table in front of the bookie's board. He opened the drawer and smiled like a kid who just found all his birthday gifts. He took out a roll of bills.  
"Ok Harvey; I guess we've done all we need to here." He picked up his stick and started to the door. He waited for Harvey to leave the room in front of him then turned back to grin around the door-frame. "Oh Lenny; get yourself an accountant."  
He hooked the door with his stick and closed it with a careful click.

The two cousins left the bar without a word. They got into Dave's new car.  
It was a low-slung custom job that looked as if someone had cut in half a car from a thirties gangster film and joined it to a stock car. It was a weird shade of blue with white flames painted along the wheel arches. Merle had really done a great job and Dave had been happy to part with his money "on one condition."  
"What's that man?"  
"Re-do the interior. I like plain black – leather if you can get it but leather-look will do just fine." Merle had shaken his head in disbelief and set to removing the fake tiger-skin from the seats and dashboard.

Dave and Harvey headed for Benny's office and handed over the missing takings. Benny counted it out and made three even piles. He slid one pile into his desk and nodded to the two young men – "you earned it."

This little payment meant that Dave could go ahead and put down the advanced rent on the two-room apartment over a garage in a leafy street in North Hollywood.  
Rosa made her usual fuss the day he packed all his stuff into two cartons and his kit-bag; but he accepted the tuna and pineapple curry casserole without a murmur.

He inaugurated his new trashcan with an unappetizing glop that even the neighborhood's stray dog refused to eat. He loaded his fridge with beer and cold cuts and cheese and settled down to life as a bachelor in the still-swinging seventies.

Dr Laurence came by for more than just the usual kind of house-call. For about six weeks they had taken up where they had left off back in Hawaii. Then she'd announced that she was getting engaged to an intern from Memorial and Dave kissed her sweetly and asked if she would still come when he needed a shot.  
As a farewell present she took him down to a new nursery she'd found and bought him a very special pot plant.  
""Just in case I'm not available."  
"I've stopped that kind of thing…"  
"It's a pretty plant, Dave…"  
"Yeah; it will always remind me of you." He gave her his best 'Paul Muni' smile and watched her drive away.

There were times when it hurt enough to use the dried leaves; but he did his best to limit himself to Camels. He kept the engraved Zippo with the pouch of dried leaves and lit his cigarettes with matches. He went on working for Benny but took a legitimate job when the cab company finally agreed that their insurance would cover him.

Soon he didn't need the stick at all – not even as a prop when he was collecting Benny's debts. He was walking as normally as he ever would. He started running and went to a local gym a couple of times before he decided that he preferred the beach and the footpaths in the canyons to the smell of other men's sweat. Most people who saw him would never know that he'd been near-crippled for a year and that he had almost lost a leg. Women he made love to would trace his fading scars and ask how he got them – he edited the story according to how he felt about the woman who'd asked.

It was Al who said that his strange slightly bow-legged limping gait reminded him of Marilyn Monroe "or maybe Mae West."

He had two near-misses. Two occasions when he nearly found himself trapped or imprisoned. The first was a near fall into the "tender trap". He had been dating a girl for about six months when her mother started planning the wedding.

It was while before Dave started dating anyone for more than a one night stand.

The second near-miss was more dangerous.

Benny had interests in a great many activities – some more legal than others.  
He also had friends who were glad to be able to call on the two cousins to clear up a few 'misunderstandings'. One of these friends was the owner of a massage parlor which was a cover for his call-girl stable. Some of Sal's activities had attracted the attention of the local Vice Squad.

Harvey and Dave had been escorting a group of hand-picked call-girls to their appointments for some time. The girls were hired to lighten the atmosphere at boring board-room meetings – or to sweeten a deal or two. When the deals weren't going the way Sal wanted them to he was in the habit of sending photographs to the client in question, showing in graphic detail some of the services that Sal had provided him with. Dave turned out to be very good photographer. He was also very persuasive when he showed the stars their photos.

He was on his way to take a discuss some interesting photos with a well-known politician when he spotted the cops. They had to be cops…they looked totally out of place in their smart shirts and ties, and one of them was even wearing a hat! Dave pulled back and scanned the motel parking lot. There they were, standing around a car; and the guy using the mike was none other than John Blaine. Dave thought quickly. The last thing he needed was for Blaine to spot him here. He hadn't seen the older man for years – but he would never forget the way Blaine had taught him to fight when he was still a shy nervous and defensive refugee from New York. He couldn't bear the idea that Blaine find out about his current activities. He slipped into an alleyway and ran to where his car was parked a block away.

When the cops moved in Dave was safely back in his apartment.

It made him think for a while. But he needed to work and Benny paid him well enough to keep him in a manner that he was getting accustomed to – and that a cabbie's pay wouldn't support. He called Benny and told him the situation.  
"I guess I'd better lie low for a while Benny – wait until Blaine has finished whatever it is he's starting."  
"Wise move Dave. What do you know about Blaine?"  
"He looked out for me when I was a kid. When I first got out here…I couldn't fight well enough and he taught me all he knew. He's a good guy, Benny. A good cop too. I guess he reminded me of my dad."  
"Can you get close enough o find out how much he has on Sal?"  
"I don't know Benny. I mean I haven't seen him since I was in High School. I think I called him to say I was called up but…"  
"Dave, if Sal goes down I won't complain. See what you can find out and we might give your friend a little help."  
"I dunno…I…."  
"Don't worry – he'll never know that you are connected to me. That's a promise."  
"OK…I'll see what I can find out."

Things didn't work out quite how he planned it, but Dave got his opportunity to see Blaine.

Ever since Calley had been sentenced for the My Lai massacres and then given the easy option of house arrest by Nixon the press was searching for evidence of US Army brutalities – if it wasn't trying to prove that Calley was an aberration! Dave had picked up a copy of one of the news magazines and a name caught his eye. Thorn. The article suggested that Thorn had been arrested while in a military hospital for his part in another massacre – but the Army insisted that he had been arrested for theft and trafficking in stolen arms. Dave looked at the photo of the bastard who had nearly cost him his leg and sat back to think.  
He picked up the 'phone and asked enquiries to find John Blaine's number and asked for the address. His mentor still lived in the same suburb that he'd moved out to when Dave was a kid. His wife answered the phone.  
"Hi Margaret, remember me…Dave Starsky."  
She remembered him. "I guess you want to speak to John?" He heard her call into the another room and a couple of seconds later Blaine's familiar voice came onto the line.  
"Dave; what can I do for you? Last I heard you were called up."  
"Yeah…it's kind of about that…I need to see you. Can we meet someplace?"  
Blaine named a bar and they arranged to meet later that evening.

Starsky was sitting in opposite Blaine in a bar booth; he had a glass of beer in front of him but so far he hadn't touched it.

"They trained me as a sharp-shooter. I did pretty well after I learned not to see them as human beings but as 'the enemy'. I serve my time; did my job. Just another enlisted man; you know what they called us…'the grunts'."  
He told Blaine the story of how he'd ended up as an officer instead of a grunt.  
"There are plenty of officers who don't like guys like me. I got caught up with one of them – and he didn't like me for other reasons. He was a racist bastard and an anti-Semite and he'd surrounded himself with a little private platoon of men who felt the same way.  
What I'm telling you, John, is that Calley wasn't the only one.  
My platoon had been attacked and there weren't many of us left – we were assigned to patrol with his group. Right from the start he treated me like the enlisted man I really am. He refused to let me give orders and he tried to over-ride anything I told my men. The guys in my group – we'd worked together since we first got to 'Nam – they didn't care if I was Lieutenant, they called me Dave.  
They said that the enemy was operating near a village. We'd heard of villages that were really VC camps. We started to sweep the area. And we found a village.  
There wasn't an enemy soldier to be seen. It was a perfectly normal village; some of the people probably hated us and some of them liked us and most of them couldn't give a flying fuck as long as they were left alone."  
He stared ahead as he told John everything that he'd seen that day when nightmares came true.  
"They did terrible things John…I…I can't…"  
He choked and took a deep swallow of beer.  
"Then the woman and the kids ran out of a hut at the edge of the village. Somehow they must have stayed hidden and they thought they could make a break for it. I knew enough Vietnamese to warn them; I got hold of one of the kids and we ran like hell. I felt the bullet. I don't know what happened after that – I don't even know who of my group survived to be the witness for my medals. But I do know who shot me. He was the other guy's right hand man – Sergeant Billy Thorn. And now his face is in the papers because a journalist doesn't believe the Army's version of why they arrested him."

They sat in silence. Dave was fighting back the tears at the memories of the terrible things he'd witnessed; Blaine was stunned.

"And so you came to me for advice…not to one of your new friends?"  
"What does that mean?"  
"I saw you the other day; be careful of the company you keep."  
"I guess it's too late for that."  
"It's never too late. Remember your dad…do you want to go down in an alley?"  
"That was a low shot."  
"OK. I'll see what I can find out about from the journalist…and then what Dave?"  
"Maybe I'll tell him the truth too."

They started to talk about other things.

Dave managed to find out that the cops weren't interested in Benny. He also learned how Benny might be able to arrange Sal's downfall. He absorbed the information without letting Blaine see that it registered with him.  
They stood up to leave. "I'll call you when I know a bit more Dave."

A couple of days later Sal was arrested. Two days after that Blaine called Dave.  
"I've found out all I can. Apparently there was another eye-witness; he pinned Thorn just before he died…he told the MPs that he'd seen Thorn fire on an American Officer. Thorn would be up for a Court Martial if they had enough evidence. I found out where you need to go to give your deposition." He gave an address.

The next day Dave dressed in his old uniform and set out for the JAG offices.  
He saluted, removed his cap and gave his name to the young woman at the desk. She directed him to the office he needed and he started down the corridor. As soon as he saw the name on the Assistant Investigating Officer's door he turned and left the JAG building.

Blaine called to find out how he'd got on.  
"I didn't testify."  
"What?"  
"I couldn't; I saw who the assistant investigating officer was…."  
He never mentioned the incident again.

That evening he opened the drawer and smoked a hand-rolled cigarette.

He was working for Benny full-time now; he gave up the cab with no real regrets.  
He and Harvey were still a team – but Benny liked to send Dave out on his own from time to time. He could trust Dave not to use violence unless he really had to. The only thing that bothered Benny was that the ex-Army sharp-shooter refused to carry a gun.  
Dave's powers of persuasion were all he needed. If he had to he knew exactly how to exert just enough pain to get what he wanted. He rarely left a mark on his victims…there were even guys who hoped that if Benny ever got mad with them he'd send Dave.

He was also a tight driver. He could get a car out of any situation; he knew his way round the alleys and streets of the neighborhoods where Benny operated and nothing seemed to bother him if he was at the wheel. It had to happen; Benny wanted him to drive Arnie to deal with what he called a 'discipline problem.' Dave knew what that meant – but he couldn't refuse. He sat in the car and waited with the engine running. Arnie did what he had to do and Dave took off into the night. He didn't see the light turn until it was too late and before he and Arnie knew it they had a siren and flashing lights behind them. Dave swung the car to the left and the lights flashed behind him. The carried on in a crazy game of tag until Dave finally lost the cop. He simply turned into a parking lot and slipped into a space and killed the lights. The cop's car slid past and disappeared out of the north side exit. Dave started her up and left by the south side exit. He took Arnie back to Benny and collected his reward.

Unfortunately Arnie didn't do his job well enough and three days later he and Benny were found in a car in a supermarket parking lot. Both had taken a single bullet in the back of the head. Without Benny the organization started to fall apart and Dave found himself back behind the wheel of a cab. He still had a few errands from time to time – but it was beginning to leave a sour taste in his mouth.

His nightmares came back. The jungle and the alley merged in his mind. He sat on his sofa fingering his medals and thinking of his dad.

He reached over and picked up the 'phone.

"John, It's Dave. Do you have the number for the Police Academy?"

He was accepted for the next intake and decided to take the risk and go to New York to tell him mom the news in person. The last thing she said to him at the airport the day he left was "They're going to make you cut your hair."


End file.
